


keep your eyes open

by coramalias



Series: Nice to meet you [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Parent Death, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coramalias/pseuds/coramalias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i></i><br/><b>Hey, look at me, keep your eyes open.</b><br/> </p><p> </p><p>Malia traced the words reverently, only half listening as her twelve year old sister haggled the attendant for the next ticket to Helena.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>I hope you're safe,</i><br/> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>I hope I can meet you before you leave me</i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(no major character death the suicide warning is for the very beginning)</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep your eyes open

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Malia's father commits suicide within the first few paragraphs, if that triggers you skip ahead to the next ***

When Malia Tate was ten years old, the first words her soulmate would say to her inscribed themselves into the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. 

One day later her mother and siblings died in a car crash on their way to pick her up from a soccer game. 

Three months later her father learned exactly why Malia had not been compatible enough to donate blood to her dying mother. 

Three months later after the death of his wife and biological children, Andrew Tate hung himself in the doorway of his bedroom. 

The only reason Malia avoided the traumatic experience of finding her father's body was the presence of a new loss on a much grander scale. 

That very same day, Kate Argent used the information she seduced from Derek Hale to burn the majority of his family alive. Not just Derek's family, but Malia's family as well. Her human consciousness, the only state of mind she had ever known, knew nothing about this. But the native part of her, the animal within which held the knowledge of a stable pack as its own pseudo anchor, fell into a rage filled panic. Her sudden transformation was painful and without warning and would leave her elementary school with a full fledged investigation as to how a small girl could suddenly go missing in the middle of recess. 

Her instincts pulled her to the house and into the flames already ravaging around her unknown family. She grabbed the nearest body, latched on with her sharp incisors and tugged with all the might that her small body would allow. 

Cora Hale had the good fortune of falling just outside the doorway, and just outside of the mountain ash line surrounding her home. When her cousin tugged on her left arm she allowed herself to be pulled, lifting her weight to lean on the narrow spine of the coyote in front of her. 

Harsh coughs wracked her body and she almost doubled over into an inflamed metal rod, but Malia pushed her up and onward, past the haze of smoke and into the road twenty feet from her now demolished home. 

"We can't stay here," Cora rasped. She was disoriented, sickly, almost incapacitated with the loss of her family, and burning with a rage inside that rivaled the flames behind her, but her wolf recognized a packmate in the animal beside her. 

"The hunters will come back, we have to leave _now_ ," Malia growled her confirmation and together the two limped their way around the house and into the forest behind it. 

It would take two years before Cora was able to coax Malia back into her human form. The pair was in Oregon at the time, in a backwater hotel that reeked of sex and cigarette smoke. Malia came back to humanity shaking from head to toe, naked, and eyes skittering around the room in abject terror. Cora held up her hands and backed up slightly, giving her some space. She hummed slightly and, when Malia's focused snapped to her, held out a blanket to her friend. 

Malia accepted it carefully and wrapped it around her shoulders. She blinked slowly, licking her lips before speaking in a voice roughened by lack of use. 

"Name," she said, curling further into the fetal position, "your name." 

Cora smiled reassuringly and eased herself to sit beside her on the ground. "Cora. What's yours?" 

Her eyebrows scrunched together, almost as if she was struggling to remember. Finally she said, "Malia." 

"It's nice to meet you," Cora whispered, dragging another blanket down from the mattress behind them and scooting closer to Malia. She was still extremely tense, her fingers gripping the blanket tightly. 

"You know what we are?" Cora asked quietly. Malia shook her head. 

"We're werewolves." 

Malia nodded and ducked her head down, pushing closed to Cora and nudging her nose into her collarbone. 

"You're my family, aren't you." She whispered into the skin of Cora's throat. 

"You're my sister now." Cora assured her, wrapping her arms around the twelve year old's back and melding them together snugly. 

*** 

_**Hey, look at me, keep your eyes open.**_

Malia traced the words reverently, only half listening as her twelve year old sister haggled the attendant for the next ticket to Helena. 

_I hope you're safe,_

_I hope I can meet you before you leave me_

*** 

"Mac and Cheese, Cora? Really? Again?" 

"You're the one who refuses to learn how to drive! When you have to make the grocery runs, you get to choose your own food." Cora calls from the living room of their little apartment. 

"Yeah, yeah," Malia grumbles as she viciously rips open the package of neon cheese powder. 

She continues preparing their dinner even as she hears Cora venture into the room through the door behind her. She hums in acknowledgment and the water in front of her begins to boil. 

"So," Cora begins, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard and setting them on the counter. 

Malia raises an eyebrow and motions for her to continue. 

"How do you feel about visiting Beacon Hills for a bit?" She says quickly, looking at Malia nervously. 

Malia swallows harshly and forces her hands to unclench from their death grip on the counter. "Why?" 

Cora pauses and, to Malia's horror, she notices her eyes are slightly shining with tears. "It's just... the house. They're going to demolish it soon and I just... I can set things straight if I go down there and I can't let my family's home become a pile of wood and..." 

"Cora, it's okay," Malia says stiffly, reaching over to catch Cora's hand with her own, "I'll go with you." 

Cora narrows her eyes suspiciously and swats Malia's shoulder with her free hand. "You don't have to, dumbass. I can see how upsetting this is for you, I can go by myself-" 

Malia interrupts her with a growl. "I'm not going to let you fuck off to the death trap of Beacon Hills without my protection, _dumbass_." 

Cora rolls her eyes, but there is a smile playing on her lips. "The water is boiling over." 

"Shit!" Malia yelps as Cora cackles. 

*** 

"Excuse me," says the strawberry blond woman in front of them, giving both Cora and Malia a once over before smiling with a sickly sweetness, "What did you say your names were again?" 

Cora freezes beside her, and Malia can her her heartbeat kick up a few notches. She opens her mouth, but nothing more comes out. Malia intervenes. 

"My name is Malia," she says, then gestures to her sister who is doing a surprisingly good goldfish impression, "and this is my sister Cora. Sorry you got that coffee all over you, it was an accident." 

The lights of the diner just outside of Beacon Hills cast a warm glow over the scene, and Malia realizes that she is witnessing the meeting of soulmates. 

The woman nods, then turns her sharp look to Cora. "What about you? I've noticed you talking to your sister earlier, can't you speak for yourself?" 

The look of wonder falls from her face and is replaced by an equally adoring spark of challenge. "I can't help that you've startled me so much. I'll be sure to do more speaking to you without interference in the future." 

Now it's the woman's turn to startle, her face reddening in a warm blush as her eyes blink slowly to conclusion. "Oh," she breathes, reeling back slightly in shock. 

"And what did you say your name was again?" Cora asks with a teasing edge. 

The woman smiles genuinely this time. "Lydia. My name is Lydia." 

"Lovely," Cora breathes, and Malia takes that as her cue to leave the happy couple to get to know one another. She excuses herself from the booth with the assurance she will stay close by and makes her way over to the seat her sister's soulmate had abandoned. At the table sits a gangly boy who looks about her age, with moles spiraling across his skin in an apparently complicated fashion. 

"Hey," Malia greets, taking Lydia's seat. 

The guy turns his attention to her, seeming confused. "Uh, that seat's taken." 

Malia chooses to cut to the chase. "Lydia is my sister's soulmate. I think she'll be preoccupied for a bit." 

He jumps, the table shaking as he jolts from his chair. "Lydia found her soulmate?!" 

Malia nods, not feeling like repeating herself, and steals a bite of Lydia's pie. 

"Well, tell me about her! What's she like?!" 

Malia gives the boy a judgemental look, licking the whipped cream off her fork. "You haven't even told me your name yet. Or asked for mine." 

"Sorry! I'm Stiles." 

"Malia." 

*** 

Malia officially hates Walmart. All she wanted was a pack of Mac and Cheese (shut up, Cora) but apparently that ended with a fight in isle eleven. She swears she just brushed by this lady, but all of a sudden she had a face full of screaming middle aged mother to handle. 

"Listen," she growls, "I just wanted to get by, no harm done, it was an accident." 

But the woman is having none of it. "The nerve of kids these days! Don't you know how to respect your elders?" 

She is about five seconds away from regrettable homicide when an employee finally shows up. 

"Is there a problem?" The woman asks, facing the mother with her hands on her hips. She couldn't be older than twenty years, a height around that of Malia, and soft brown curls ending at her shoulders. Her eyelashes fan beautifully as her eyes narrow suspiciously at the scene in front of her. She purses her lips (very soft looking lips, really) and her posture straightens. 

"Hilary," she chastises, "I've told you before, no matter how many injuries you pick out of this store, nor how many people you pick a fight with, you will not win a court battle against Walmart." 

Hilary grumbles under her breath yet slinks away. 

The woman doesn't address Malia at all, simply catching her gaze and smiling softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

Malia is too dumbstruck to do anything else but smile back. 

*** 

A loud banging at their hotel for startles Malia awake. Cora is out visiting Lydia, and when Cora says visiting she means worshiping the fuck out of both Lydia and her body (and vice versa). Malia starts to yell for whoever is banging at their door to leave, but then she catches the scent. It's a scent she hasn't recognized in ten years. She leaps out of bed and rushes toward the door, throwing it open with a loud thud. 

Two people stand in front of her. One is a man, about twenty years old, with dark hair, a leather jacket, eyebrow game that rivals even Malia's, and eyes that remind her achingly of Cora. Beside him is a woman, slightly shorter than him but obviously the one with the authority between them. Her hair is as wild as Malia's and her eyes, oh God, her eyes flash red as she assesses her. 

"You're Derek and Laura," Malia breathes, recognizing them from the countless stories told by Cora. "Oh God I thought you were dead." 

Laura's eyes widen as realization hits her. "You're Peter's daughter." 

Derek steps forward easily, grabbing Malia's shoulder and pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Literally. Malia could feel a rib cracking. She feels Laura hovering beside her, and a hand running through her hair softly. 

"Cora," she breathes into Derek's shoulder, feeling him freeze in shock, "she's here too, she's at her soulmate's house." 

"Cora's alive," Derek says reverently. 

"Yeah," Malia affirms, leaning back somewhat, "I can take you to her." 

*** 

At Lydia's house, the trio finds Cora, Lydia, Stiles, and Kira gathered squished into the couch, munching on popcorn and watching Project Runway. Malia would be disgusted by her sister's lack of game, but the scene is way to sweet for even her to say anything. 

Malia almost knocks the door down in her haste. 

"Malia?" Cora asks as she opens the door, "what's wro-" 

She stops, eyes widening at the two extra werewolves on her soulmate's doorstep. 

"Oh my God," she breathes, backing up slightly. 

In the end it's Laura who launches herself into Cora's arms, Derek and Malia short to follow, gathering there in the doorway in a small bundle of warmth and family. Lydia approaches cautiously, but Cora holds out a hand to her, and suddenly their bundle of four increases by one. 

Kira and Stiles hesitate on the sidelines, unsure of what they are intruding on. But Stiles steps too close, apparently, and Derek turns toward him with a growl building in his throat. When he realizes what he is doing he stops, blinks a few times to clear his head, then turns slightly toward Stiles. 

He might have meant to apologize, but what comes out is a broken, "My family, I have my family again." 

Stiles freezes, his eyes widening to a comical degree. "You're their family?" His voice shoots up an octave. 

Derek stops breathing for a moment, then his gaze at Stiles turns to nothing less than wonder. He reaches out a hand and Stiles takes it, allowing himself to be yanked into his soulmate's embrace. 

"I'm going to call Scott," Kira informs them, only to be replied with a muffled affirmation from Lydia. 

*** 

"I'm a werewolf," Derek blurts out as he sits at the counter in Lydia's kitchen, surrounded by his newfound family and soulmate. 

Stiles laughs, sliding a pancake onto his plate. "No shit? So is my best friend." 

"Really?" Cora asks, looking at Lydia accusingly. 

Lydia simply smiles innocently and pecks her cheek. "Not my secret to share, sweetheart." 

*** 

When Stiles first warns them that there's a wendigo hiding in the woods, Malia doesn't actually take him seriously. 

Which leads her to regret everything that has led up to the point of her clutching her stomach tightly to keep her intestines from spilling out, a slice of skin peeling from her cheek, alone in the middle of the woods at night, and unable to switch to her coyote form without risking her organs falling out. 

_I blame you, Stiles,_ she thinks bitterly, limping pathetically in the direction she hopes Stiles is still waiting for her. 

_Let's go check out the wendigo, Malia. I think it's hurting people, Malia. Don't tell Derek, Malia._

Just as her surroundings begin to become more familiar, and she thinks she night actually live through this, sharp claws slice through the flesh of her back. 

Not even with enough strength to cry out, she simply whines as she slumps to the ground, watching the dark shadow of fear descend over her to take her final breah. 

"Hey, asshole!" Stiles yells from behind the monster, and at the same time Malia hears a low roar accompanied by the sound of arrows whizzing by. 

One of the mentioned arrows actually hits Malia in the stomach, inside her already gaping wound, and her vision blurs worryingly into black. She hears faint sounds of a successful kill from somewhere to her left, but she can only concentrate on continuing to breathe. 

Soon, though, soft hands cup her face. "Hey, look at me, keep your eyes open." 

Malia's eyes flutter open in shock, and the person there to greet her is the woman she met at Walmart weeks prior, beautiful complexion now smeared with dirt and hair tied up in a tight bun. Who is apparently the hunter Lydia's pack can't seem to shut up about. 

Malia smiles unsteadily, reaching out to press against the huntress' hand where it holds the skin of her stomach in place. 

"I'm glad I got to meet you before..." she cuts off as a cough forces it's way out of her throat, bringing blood with it. 

"No," the huntress breathes in horror, her hand still resting against Malia's face tightening its grip, "you are not going to die on me, okay? Not you, too. I only just met you." 

Malia lets her body half shift, the ripple of claws protruding from her fingernails and her eyes burning a bright gold. She tears new holes in her thighs, and opens her eyes once more as the huntress' breath stutters. 

"What's your name?" she croaks as her body jumpstarts it's healing process. Hopefully it will be enough. Now that she's found her family and soulmate, she's not sure she wants to go. 

"Allison," she whispers, resting her forehead against Malia's. 

"Malia." 

*** 

"Hey," Allison says softly from the chair next to Malia's makeshift bed in the back of a veterinarian's office, "we're going to go on a proper date later, once your stomach doesn't have a hole in it anymore." 

Malia grins sleepily, ignoring the twinge of discomfort as her dry lips split open. "To make up for that less than stellar meeting?" 

Instead of agreeing, Allison leans down to kiss Malia's forehead. "I'm just glad that whenever you look at my words on your wrist, you'll know to keep fighting." 

Malia feels sleep pulling her down once more, but manages to get out, "Both you and your words already did that years ago." 

Allison hides her smile in Malia's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I might add a version from Allison's POV? Or everyone's. It depends on how well this goes and how much homework I'm bombarded with.


End file.
